


Do you want me to go?

by quakeriders



Series: feysand tumblr prompt fills [24]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, past Feyre Archeron/Tamlin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: Feyre stumbled into her apartment at 3 am, wiping at her eyes. Her phone was still buzzing every few seconds with calls and texts from Lucien and Elain, and even Tamlin.anon asked for: “I told my roommate I would be gone tonight so you crash in my bed but I end up coming home and crawling in, so we both start screaming”
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: feysand tumblr prompt fills [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1333426
Comments: 15
Kudos: 212





	Do you want me to go?

**Author's Note:**

> no screaming, bc I’ve wanting to write something like this for ages!

Feyre stumbled into her apartment at 3 am, wiping at her eyes. Her phone was still buzzing every few seconds with calls and texts from Lucien and Elain, and even Tamlin.

Once the door fell shut behind her, Feyre quietly dropped her keys and bag on the dresser in the hall and wrote a text to Elain.

_I’m home. I’m fine. Going to bed._ She wrote and then promptly shut off her phone.

Feyre had been invited to Lucien’s birthday party and since Elain and him had been going steady for the last six months, her sister had wanted Feyre to stay the night. However, as soon as Tamlin had gotten drunk enough to approach her, Feyre had quickly realized that there was no way that she could stay any second longer.

He had cornered her on her way to the bathroom. Trying to talk or make up. His words had been slurred and hadn’t made much sense. At least at first.

As far as Feyre was concerned there was no way in hell that she would ever get with Tamlin again. That part of her life was over and she’d never regretted breaking up with him almost three months ago.

Tamlin seemed to still be under the impression that Feyre was being stubborn, playing hard to get or punishing him for how he had treated her.

As soon as Tamlin had started trying to kiss her, they had gotten into a terrible fight that had ended with Lucien and Elain needing to step in. That hadn’t stopped Tamlin from turning nasty, somehow less drunk and spewing insults at her.

And despite her best intentions, Feyre had had a few too many drinks and his vile words had gotten under her skin. She had left the place before he could see the effect his words had on her and only when she had gotten into her uber, did she let herself cry.

Out of embarrassment or frustration or because, no matter how much time had passed, Tamlin’s insults still managed to hurt her.

Only when Feyre stumbled over a few pairs of shoes in the entryway, did she remember that her roommate, Mor, had planned to have some people over tonight. For a brief moment, panic flared but then Feyre noticed the lack of sounds coming from the living room.

Whatever Mor and the others had been up to, they must have fallen asleep by now, because it was dark and silent in the apartment. Feyre sniffled quietly, tip-toeing across the living room and towards her bedroom.

She noticed two hulking figures that were passed out on the couch in what looked to be the most uncomfortable positions possible. And when Feyre noticed that Cassian’s lips were painted a bright sparkly purple, her mood lightened a bit.

Feyre opened her bedroom door slowly, wondering whether Rhys hadn’t come at all or if he had, why he had left early. She slipped into her room, closing the door slowly because she had learned the hard way that Azriel was an extremely light sleeper and that the faintest of sounds would wake him.

She was halfway across the room, her dress unzipped and hanging around her waist, when she noticed that she wasn’t alone in the room.

Someone was in her bed. Laying on top of her covers, with only a light blanket covering his midsection, was Rhysand.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat, she hastily pulled her dress up to cover her chest. But the body on her bed remained still and unmoving. Asleep.

Now, she wondered why Rhys was in her bed.

Then she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to come home tonight and it would have been stupid for Rhys to sleep on the floor if there was a perfectly empty bed right there.

She debated for just a second, before sighing softly and turning away.

Feyre slipped on her pyjama bottoms, then with a final look over her shoulder, she pulled her dress over her head, replacing it with an old t-shirt. She slipped her bra out from under it and threw it on the pile of discarded clothes.

Then she let her hair down and walked to the foot of the bed, trying to get under the covers without waking Rhys.

She failed.

As soon as she was kneeling on the bed, gently prying apart the covers, he rolled over. Blinking dazedly down at her, it took him a moment to come to his sense.

“Wha-”

“Shhh.” Feyre hissed, pulling harder at the covers now that he was awake. “Move over.”

He stilled, looking confused. After a few moments of them just looking at each other, he rolled far enough away for her to yank away the comforter and slip underneath it.

“Feyre?” Rhys asked, his voice husky from sleep. “Mor said you weren’t coming.”

Feyre let out a deep sigh as soon as her head hit the pillow and tried to turn away.

A warm hand stopped her, pulling her back. She reluctantly looked up into Rhys’ eyes and found him looking down at her, awake now and full of concern.

She had hoped he would be too tired to notice, but Rhys had always been more attentive than she had given him credit for.

“What happened?” He whispered softly.

Again, tears pricked at her eyes and she exhaled a shaky breath. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Feyre tried to turn away once more, but Rhys just leaned forward, slinging an arm over her waist and pulling her closer.

“It’s not nothing.” He muttered and Feyre felt his breath on her neck.

She relaxed, leaning further into his warmth. As soon as she did so, another sob escaped her throat. Rhys’ arms wrapped around her, pulling her so close that she could feel his heart beating against her cheek.

And then a broad hand started gently rubbing up and down her back.

Feyre couldn’t hold it in anymore. She buried her face more deeply into his warm chest and let herself cry.

Rhys made comforting noises and the vibrations of his chest lulled Feyre into a sleepy calm far sooner than she had thought possible.

When she finally stopped crying like the world was ending, Rhys just said, “He’s an asshole. He never deserved you.”

She let out a shaky breath, something between a laugh and another sob.

“I’m serious, Feyre. He never treated you right. Not when you were together, not now.”

Feyre pressed herself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing in thanks. She wasn’t sure she had the words to tell him how grateful she was.

Rhys pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” Feyre grumbled out, holding onto him harder.

This time, when his chest vibrated, it wasn’t because he was trying to soothe her. No, the prick was chuckling.

Feyre lifted her head from where it had been buried against his chest and glared at him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because, if I had known getting into your bed would have been this easy, I would have done it months ago.”

Even in the darkness, Feyre could see the playful spark in his violet eyes. And somehow, despite the hollowness she had felt, she returned the smile he gave her.

“If you’re going to be a prick about it, I can always kick you out.”

“You won’t.” He teased, and as if to prove it, he moved away only for Feyre to tighten her hold on him again. “See? You can’t get enough of me.”

“Shut up.” She grumbled again and then buried her face back into his chest. Closing her eyes, even while she was still smiling.

“Good night, Feyre darling.” Rhys whispered, settling deeper into the covers.

“Good night, you insufferable prick.”


End file.
